Turning Grey (Poetry)

I’ve longed for a hero
I’ve prayed for release
the book now too faded
too crumpled and creased

The answers love needed
all torn from the page
the language precoded
from some bygone age

I dreamed like a convert
I cherished each bite
in the cell of my body
I ache through the night

With no comfort, no solace
no angelic voice
to whisper a promise
or offer some choice

So I’m lost to the future
I’m dropped from the game
the box turned up empty
no cross by my name

The same sad old story
blind luck skipped on past
and happiness waved but
the warmth didn’t last

There’s a chill in the morning
that lingers all day
and I yearn for that hero
sad years have turned grey